


Look, I’m Not A Stalker, I’m Just Bad With People

by qilathe



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, but mostly because Dirk isn't great with people, mild stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:38:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8517082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qilathe/pseuds/qilathe
Summary: Farah meets Todd when he comes into her coffee shop with a black eye and a blood-stained shirt. Dirk met him a couple hours earlier, before he had either.





	1. Chapter 1

Farah is wiping down the counters the first time he comes in. He looks dejected, like the hits just keep coming. His uniform indicates that he is a bellhop at the hotel across the street—or was. He has a black eye and his shirt is blood-stained, so she suspects that he has lost that job.

“What can I do you for?” she asks him brightly.

He blinks at her, as if he wasn’t expecting her to speak. “Um. Mocha?”

“Coming right up. Anything else?”

“Um,” he looks at the display case thoughtfully for a moment. “A slice of pumpkin pie?”

“Sure thing. For here or to go?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, sighing. “Here, I guess.”

She winks at him. “Alright, that’ll be a $8.73.”

He fishes in his pocket for his wallet and hands her his debit card.

She swipes it on the machine. It declines his card. She considers the machine and his card for a moment, then smiles at him and hands the card back. “It’ll be out in a few, have a seat, Todd.”

“How did you—?” he starts to ask.

“It’s on your card,” she tells him, smiling to herself. “Find a seat, I’ll bring the drink and pie to you.”

“Okay,” he agrees, and wanders off to find a seat in the small shop.

Once his drink is done, Farah comes out behind the counter and puts the cup and pie down in front of Todd. He jumps, startled. “Thank you,” he says, seemingly to cover.

“Enjoy,” Farah says cheerily. “Let me know if you need anything.”

It’s still mid-afternoon, past the lunch rush, so Todd’s the only one in the place. Farah goes back to cleaning up the counters and the machines and then checks her watch. It’s been half an hour, and Todd is still slowly sipping his coffee. It’s also four ten, so she knows that Dirk will be there any moment. Part of her hopes that Todd will leave before Dirk arrives. He may be unemployed now, but he’ll have money eventually and come back. She’d rather not lose a new customer immediately because of her eccentric childhood-friend-slash-foster-brother. Not to mention that Todd is exactly Dirk’s type, which means that he will inevitably ham it up even more, as if he actually wants to chase the man off.

Unfortunately for both her and Todd, Dirk arrives right as she thinks that. “Farah!” he says cheerily.

Todd’s head jerks up and he immediately glares at Dirk.

Farah frowns at Todd from where she’s standing out of his line of sight. “Afternoon, Dirk. How can I help you?”

Dirk completely ignores her, noticing Todd. “Hey! I know you. Do I know you? I know you, right? Yes. How do I know you?”

Todd’s face turns into such a caricature of fury that Farah steps out from behind the counter, in case she has to intervene.

“I—you,” Todd says, his voice surprisingly more shocked than furious, given his expression. “You got me punched in the face! And then fired!” There’s the anger Farah was expecting.

“Oh, right! Todd, isn’t it? Nice to see you again! How have you been?” Dirk says brightly. Farah pinches the bridge of her nose, questioning their entire relationship, not for the first time.

“It’s been two hours!” Todd shoots back.

“Has it?” Dirk asks. “Sorry, it’s been a very eventful two hours for me. Feels almost like it’s been two days.” Dirk’s attention wanders for a minute. “So, how’s your face?”

Todd looks at Dirk, and for one brief moment, Farah worries about the rage in his eyes, but then all the fight goes out of him and he turns back to his table and lays his head on his crossed arms. He might be crying, Farah isn’t sure.

Dirk opens his mouth to say something else, probably something else terrible, and Farah interrupts him by grabbing his arm and jerking him to the front counter with a sharp look.

“What would you like to drink, Dirk?” she says curtly.

“Wow, why is everyone being so rude,” Dirk complains. “All I did was tell him about a fight. And a suspicious pool of blood.”

Farah has known Dirk long enough to know better than to ask questions. Or to be shocked by his flippancy, if she’s being honest. “Dirk,” she repeats. “Drink. Order. Now.”

“Uh, London Fog, extra London,” he orders.

“Extra London is not a thing,” she tells him for probably the millionth time.

“Sure it is,” he says cheerily. He hands her a twenty and tells her to keep the change. Farah accepts, rolling her eyes, and turns to make a drink.

A moment later she’s sorry she turned her back on Dirk for even a second because she hears a chair move from close to where Todd is sitting and then Dirk says loudly, “So, what are you so dour about?”

“You got me _fired_ ,” Todd responds incredulously.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Dirk agrees, way too cheerily. “Look, it’s just a job. Whatever. No need to pout about it. You gotta look on the bright side. And besides, I didn’t exactly get you fired. I don’t understand why someone would fire you for discovering a crime scene, that’s just ridiculous. Plenty of innocent people find crime scenes. I mean, plenty of guilty people pretend to ‘find’ crime scenes, too. But that’s not what you did. You don’t want to work for someone who would fire you for something like that anyways. Have you heard about the missing girl Lydia Spring?”

Farah has the sudden urge to put one of those dog collars that shock you whenever you make a noise on Dirk. She looks up as the tea steeps.

Todd is staring at Dirk. Probably with a look of pure fury, but Farah can’t see his face and knows that Dirk’s posture and reaction is completely unrelated to anything the he sees from Todd.

“I—you can’t—look, it’s all well—I needed the money!” Todd stutters.

Dirk furrows his brows skeptically. “There are other jobs,” he tells Todd dismissively. “Anyways, missing girl, Lydia Spring, you heard of her?”

Farah has to turn to take the tea leaves out of the water, but she hears Dirk yelp in pain. She spins around immediately and is greeted by Todd forcing a smile at her, placing his now-empty dishes on the counter. “Thank you so much. Have a great day.” Then he is out the door.

She looks at Dirk, who is massaging his pinky finger and shooting Todd’s retreating form a betrayed look. Farah finishes making the earl grey latte and pours herself a cup of coffee before taking them both over to Dirk and taking Todd’s vacated seat.

“He milked my mouse!” Dirk says, clearly offended and hurt.

“I’m surprised the didn’t deck you. I definitely would have let him.”

“Hey!” Dirk complains. “You’re supposed to be my best friend!”

“And your supposed to be a human being with empathy,” Farah counters easily.

“I—I am! What is that supposed to mean?”

Farah rolls her eyes. “You’re broke and unemployed?” she mimics him in a high falsetto. “Look, I get that you are probably about to be hungry and homeless, but like that guy was kind of a jerk. You’re better off living in a cardboard box and getting spit on by passers by. Wanna hear about how awesome I am?”

“I did not say that!” Farah raises an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he mumbles sheepishly.

Farah rolls her eyes. “I don’t think it matters much to him what you meant.”

Dirk gets the furrow-browed look in his eyes that rarely bodes well. “No, you’re right,” he admits. “Shit, why do I always do this?”

“I have no idea, but you should have a warning sign. Something like, ‘Warning: If mouth open, foot will be inserted shortly’,” she tells him seriously.

“God, you are the worst,” Dirk complains over-dramatically.

Farah snorts. She smiles at him for a moment, then sighs as the bell on the door rings, finishing the rest of her coffee. “Alright, there’s the evening rush starting. Try not to ruin anyone else’s life today?”

Dirk sticks his tongue out at her.

When she glances over to look at him fifteen minutes later, he’s gone.

–

“Hi!” Dirk says cheerily to Todd as he opens the window to the other man’s apartment from the fire escape.

Todd shrieks and throws a shoe at him.

Dirk takes the shoe straight to the face as he steps into the apartment. “Hey, that’s rude! I only came here to apologize.”

“By breaking into my apartment?” Todd demands, looking around, presumably for something else to throw at Dirk.

Dirk suddenly finds himself making the sort of face that Farah usually describes as ‘comically realizing the folly of his own actions’. But instead of admitting to his mistake, he says, “You wouldn’t let me in the door, I had to apologize somehow.”

Todd throws another shoe at him. Dirk tragically fails to duck again.

“Do you attack everyone that comes in here?” he demands, which is definitely the wrong thing to say, because Todd then physically grabs him, hits him and manhandles him out the front door.

Dirk frowns at the wall across from Todd’s apartment, which due to the laws of physics had hit him back with force when Todd had thrown him into it.

“Well,” he tells no one in particular. “That could have gone better.”

–

Dirk sits on the hood of his blue sports car as he waits outside Todd’s apartment the next morning. Todd takes one look at him, and immediately turns and walks in the other direction.

“Hey!” Dirk calls, running after him. Todd moves pretty fast for a guy carrying a guitar. “Hey, wait up! Do you need a ride?”

Todd spins on him. “Are you physically incapable of leaving me alone?” he demands sourly.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Dirk tells him in a tone of voice that he hopes is diplomatic. He sticks out a hand for Todd to shake. “I’m Dirk Gently. I’m a private detective.”

Todd automatically takes Dirk’s hand and shakes it, before visibly realizing himself and jerking his hand back. “Leave me alone.”

Dirk puts his hands up. “Absolutely can do. But it’ll be way cheaper and more fun if you let me drive you to… wherever you are going… instead of taking the bus.” Todd opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Dirk gestures at Todd’s car. “I don’t think you’ll be driving that anywhere.”

“How do you know that’s my car?” Todd demands.

“I’m a private detective,” Dirk tells him seriously. “I just said that.”

“Hey!” a man says, emerging from the house next to Todd’s apartment building. “Hey, where’s my money?”

Todd’s eyes go wide, and he grabs Dirk by the wrist and says, “Okay, get in the car.”

“Excellent!” Dirk agrees cheerily, following Todd along and unlocking his car. They both clamber in as the man runs after them.

Upon second reflection, Dirk thinks he recognizes the man, and hesitates.

“Drive!” Todd says, a little desperately.

“Where’s my money Todd!” the man shouts through the window as he reaches Dirk’s car. He pauses in his ranting, though, when he sees Dirk, clearly taken aback that he seems to recognize him, but can’t place from where.

“Hi, Damien!” Dirk says cheerily. “You remember me! Dirk Gently.”

At the name, Damien visibly relaxes. “Dirk, you make sure he brings me my money!”

Dirk shoots Damien a smile and a thumbs up before speeding off.

“How do you know my landlord?” Todd demands grabbing onto his seat for dear life.

“I’m a private investigator. I private investigated for him once. I can’t tell you anything else. Confidentiality, you understand.”

Todd looks like he might explode.

“Anyways, I got us out of there, didn’t I?” Dirk says seriously. When Todd starts to relax at the thought, Dirk asks cheerily, “So, where are we going?”

–

Dirk pops up next to Todd as he waits for his sister to answer the door. “You said you were going to wait in the car!” Todd hisses, clearly scandalized.

“I lied,” Dirk tells him, bubbly as ever. “Sorry.”

Amanda opens the door before Todd can say anything else, and Todd immediately turns away from Dirk and pulls her into a hug.

“Hi, Todd, thanks for coming.” She pauses, looking curiously at Dirk. “Who is this?”

“This is Dirk Gently,” Todd says, and then doesn’t give any further explanation.

“Hi!” Dirk says reaching out a hand to Amanda, who takes it and smiles as she shakes his hand. “I’m his friend.”

“No, he’s not,” Todd tells Amanda dryly.

“Yes, I am,” Dirk contradicts, pouting.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Todd hits Dirk.

“Ow!”

Amanda is giving them a strange look, but seems amused. “Come in,” she offers, standing back from the door. She leads them to the living room and gestures to the couch. “I’ll get some coffee, I’ll be right back.”

As soon as she leaves the room, Dirk turns to Todd. “Is it that important that I not be identified as your friend?” he demands.

“Yes,” Todd says, with vehemence. “You’re the reason I’m unemployed.”

Dirk opens his mouth to shoot something back, but then slumps back into the couch frowning. “Fine. Fair.”

When Amanda comes back with the coffee a few minutes later, Todd takes his cup and leads her out of the room after she hands the remote and another cup of coffee to Dirk.

Once they’re in the kitchen, Amanda asks him quietly, “What’s with Dirk?”

Todd shrugs. “He got me fired, and also this black eye. It was an accident, but then he ran into me in a coffee shop and then stalked me using his private detective skills, all to apologize. So he drove me here. And then he followed me inside instead of staying in the car like he said he would.”

Amanda peaks out the archway of the kitchen at Dirk. “Well, he’s very cute. Definitely your type,” she decides.

“Hey!” Todd protests, coloring. “Did you miss the part where I said he’s stalking me?”

“I said he was your type, didn’t I?” She doesn’t wait for a response, steps into the living room. “Hey, Dirk, you wanna come listen to us jam?” she offers.

Dirk perks up immediately. “Do I ever!”

–

“Okay,” Farah asks, sitting out on the balcony of her apartment with Dirk. “Explain it to me again.”

“So, I found out where he lived—strictly to apologize—but he wouldn’t answer the door, so I climbed up the fire escape and through his window and he threw some shoes at me, and then threw me out of the house. Didn’t let me apologize, even! So rude. Anyways, so then I waited outside his apartment all night until he left the next morning—”

“See, this is where you are losing me,” Farah tells him seriously. “Well, you lost me a while ago. Did it never occur to you to just, I don’t know, respect his privacy?”

“His landlord is a crazy man who destroyed his car,” Dirk tells her, as if that fact is in anyway related to the fact that he is basically _stalking_ a man.

“Well, that is a completely non-sequitur,” she tells him. “But please, continue the story.”

“Well, then I picked him up from in front of his apartment and took him to see his sister. And then they played some rock music for me—he plays the guitar, did you know that? Like, he plays it really well—and then I drove him home and then I gave his landlord $600 so that he would stop threatening him with a baseball bat, and then he begrudgingly thanked me, and then told me I was, in no uncertain terms, not allowed to start stalking his sister. And then I tried to walk him to his door and he threw a rock at me, so I took that to mean goodbye, so I came here and now here I am,” Dirk finishes cheerily. “I think he’s my new best friend.”

“You are actually demented,” Farah tells him seriously. “You should see someone about that. You literally spent the last 36 hours stalking a man and his family.”

“No his _whole_ family.” Dirk pouts at her. “His parents live clear in Olympia.”

“See, this? This is why you have two restraining orders against you.”

“Why are we friends again?” Dirk complains.

Farah stands up. “I’m going to get a beer, do you want one?” she offers.

“Sure,” Dirk agrees, even though they both know he will nurse it and make a terrible face every time he takes a sip.

By the time she comes back out, Dirk already looks morose. He accepts the beer with a quiet thanks. She waits a few more moments for him to say what’s on his mind.

“I don’t mean to...” Dirk gestures vaguely. “I don’t know. Stalk people. Be weird.”

“Oh, honey,” Farah says soothingly. “The stalking people thing is a bit much, but we can work on that. But if you stop being weird, I will have to stop loving you.”

Dirk frowns at her and sips his beer before making a predictably sour face.

“As for the stalking thing, the best advice I can give you is that making friends is not like investigating people, just with more talking to the subject,” Farah tells him sagely. “That seems to be your main problem.”

“But how am I supposed to get to know anyone?” Dirk whines.

“Oh, honey.” Farah reaches over and ruffles Dirk’s hair.

–

“Oh, hello!” Farah says cheerily as a young brunette steps into her shop. She looks distinctly uncomfortable and keeps glancing around the shop as if something terrible is going to jump out of the wall. “What can I get you?”

The girl jumps when she sees Farah. “I’ll—um, camomile tea?” she asks, clearly uncertain.

“Coming right up. Anything else?”

The girl shakes her head mutely.

“Okay, that’ll be $2.57,” Farah tells her.

She hands Farah a five dollar bill. “Keep the change,” she mumbles.

“Why don’t you have a seat over there?” Farah indicates a plush chair tucked by itself into a corner. “I’ll bring your drink out to you. For here right?”

The girl visibly relaxes. “Yes. Please. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Farah agrees with a wide smile.

She hears the door open as she makes the tea, but when she glances up it’s only Dirk, so she goes back about her business.

A moment later, though, she hears Dirk’s panicked voice say, “I—I swear, I’m not stalking you, Amanda. I come here—every day. Every day, right at this time I come here. Right Farah?”

Farah comes out from behind the counter with the girl’s—Amanda, she’s pretty sure she recognizes that name—tea. She rolls her eyes with a smile as she hands Amanda her tea before turning to Dirk, arms crossed. “Dirk, we’ve talked about you terrorizing my patrons. I think we just talked about it two days ago, right before you spent 48 hours stalking that guy—who, by the way hasn’t come back since.”

Dirk stammers dumbly, “I—No, Farah, I—This is—That is, I—”

Amanda starts laughing. “I’m sorry,” she says sheepishly. “He’s not terrorizing, me, miss, I’m terrorizing him. I’m sure Todd put the fear of god in him after yesterday.”

Farah turns to her and puts a hand to her mouth, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Oh my god, you are Todd’s sister, aren’t you.” She turns to Dirk. “And here I thought you said he told you not to stalk his sister.”

“I didn’t—I’m not—How would I know—I ALWAYS COME HERE AT 4:15!!!” Dirk shouts, panic in his voice. He lowers his voice, turning to Amanda. “Don’t tell him I’m stalking you. I’m not stalking you, I swear.”

“London Fog, Dirk?” Farah offers, to distract him before he goes running out the door.

“What? Er, yes. Same as usual.” He’s glancing around the shop like it’s a trap.

Farah rolls her eyes as she steps back behind the counter. She meets Dirk’s eyes and indicates his usual table, the one he sat at with Todd two days ago.

By the time she finishes making Dirk’s drink, the place is starting to fill up with the evening rush. She hands him his drink and starts making several more.

It’s twenty minutes later when she glances over and sees Amanda shaking, real fear in her eyes. She must be afraid of crowds, Farah realizes. She hands someone their latte before looking over for Dirk, breathing a sigh of relief when her eyes land on his back. “Dirk!” she calls out over the din of people talking. He looks up. When he meets her eyes, she tilts her head towards Amanda, and it only takes a second for recognition to flash across his face. He nods, standing and putting his cup on the counter as he crosses the shop to Amanda’s side. Farah goes back to helping her other patrons.

“Hey,” he says to her quietly. He’s doing his best to appear non-threatening, but Amanda still jumps. “Do you—” He falters for a second, thinking of Todd’s reaction, but he rallies himself. This is about Amanda, not him or Todd. “Do you want a ride home?”

“Yes,” Amanda agrees quietly but immediately. She stands and drops her cup on the counter, stepping very close to Dirk to do so, and then she doesn’t step away.

Dirk puts a hand gently at the small of her back and she relaxes back against him. “Alright, come with me. It’s the bright blue sports car, as I’m sure you recall.”

Once they’re both safely in the car and Dirk is on his was to Amanda’s place, she admits quietly, “So, I was maybe stalking you, a little bit. I didn’t mean to scare you. Todd isn’t usually that intense.”

Dirk nods. “He wasn’t that intense, I just...”

“Really want him to like you?” Amanda finishes for him. “Yeah, he has that effect on people.”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s the third time Todd has seen the same corgi wandering around alone outside. He cajoles the bus driver into stopping in the middle of the road so he can leave and get it.

The dog lets him walk right up and check its collar, and even pick it up. Her name is Rapunzel, and she is very sweet. She licks Todd’s chin when he picks her up. “Let’s get you home, girl, how does that sound?”

She leans a little more into him at the sound of that. She lives very close by, so Todd just starts walking.

He’s just across the street from the house when he hears a terribly familiar voice exclaim, “Todd?”

Todd turns towards the voice to see Dirk hiding behind a bush, almost completely obscured by the dark. “Are you still stalking me?” he demands incredulously.

“What?” Dirk asks. “No! Are you stalking me?”

“Why on Earth would I stalk you? You’re an insane person.”

Dirk frowns at him and looks almost like he might actually be hurt by that. “What are you even doing here? And what’s with the dog?”

“I found her wandering around. Her collar has that address on it.” Todd points to the house across the street.

“That address?” Dirk says, voice suddenly intense. “Are you sure?”

Todd glares. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“That’s strange,” Dirk observes. He sits back on his heels a little more from where he’s crouched behind the bush.

“If you aren’t here stalking me, then why are you here?” Todd asks. He’s not sure why he’s even talking to Dirk. He should probably just return the dog and leave.

“I’m investigating a missing persons case.”

“Right,” Todd says skeptically.

“I am!” Dirk protests. “I’m a private investigator. I’ve told you that before.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Todd rolls his eyes. He starts to cross the street.

“Todd!” Dirk calls after him.

Todd looks back at the bush, eyebrows raised.

“When you return the dog, tell me if you see a pale, thin girl with dark brown hair in there with the old guy,” Dirk instructs. “Please,” he adds as an afterthought.

Todd rolls his eyes and continues across the street, intent on ignoring Dirk. He rings the doorbell and then waits, bouncing the corgi a little in his arms as he does.

A late-middle age guy answers the door. “Hello?” he asks, eying Todd suspiciously.

“Uh,” Todd stammers, unnerved by the man’s gruff demeanor. “I, uh, found your dog wandering around, and your address was on the tag.”

The man seems to notice the dog for the first time. “Oh, Rapunzel! Thank you.”

Todd freezes halfway through handing the dog back. A pale brunette steps behind the man and gives Todd a look with pleading eyes. She mouths, “Help me.”

The man doesn’t seem to notice Todd’s change in demeanor, just scoops the dog easily out of Todd’s arms. “Thank you. Have a good night.”

“Yeah,” Todd says, even though the door has already been closed in his face. “You, too.” He hesitates a second more, then sprints across the street and ducks behind the bush with Dirk.

“What did you see?” Dirk demands.

Todd opens his mouth to say that he saw the girl, but now that he’s this close he can see how beat up Dirk is. “Holy shit, what happened to you?”

“Huh?” Dirk says. “Oh, I just… run in with some people from an old case. Nothing important.” He fumbles in his pockets until he pulls out his phone. He flicks through it quickly before flipping it around for Todd to see. “Is that the girl you saw?”

Todd swallows. “That’s definitely the girl.”

“Excellent!” Dirk exclaims. “Well, this’ll tie that up neatly, I guess. Thank you.”

Todd can tell that Dirk is dismissing him, but he hesitates anyways. “Seriously, man, are you alright? You don’t look so good.”

Dirk flashes Todd a wide smile that would have been more charming if it didn’t reopen his split lip. “I’ll be quite alright.”

“Okay.” Todd realizes that he isn’t supposed to care about Dirk anyways and stands to leave, patting him on the shoulder as he does.

Dirk yelps horribly and goes sprawling onto his side on the ground, his other hand coming across to grab his upper arm.

“You don’t seem okay,” Todd observes dryly. “Look, you know the girl’s in there, you can come back tomorrow if you need to. Let me at least walk you to your car.” Todd looks around, realizing suddenly that Dirk’s car is nowhere in sight. “Wherever that is.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Dirk tells Todd seriously, rallying himself back into a seated position, wincing with every movement. “I really do. But that girl has been kidnapped, and now I have to get her out.”

Todd sighs before crouching back down behind the bush with Dirk. “Fine. Who is she, and how are we getting her out?”

“Lydia Spring. And who said anything about ‘we’? This is my job. I don’t need your help.” Dirk sounds downright territorial, apparently offended that Todd would offer help.

“I said we,” Todd insists firmly. “Look, you’ve had the shit beat out of you and I owe you $600 for my rent anyways.”

Dirk opens his mouth, looking like he’s gonna protest some more, but then he shuts it with another wince. “Fine,” he agrees. “If you insist.”

“I do. Now, what’s the plan?”

Dirk takes a moment to think. “Well, now there are two of us, and he’s already seen you, so that would be suspicious… Can you pick a lock?” Dirk asks.

“I’m not sure where this is going,” Todd says carefully. “But I can pick most key-locks, yeah.”

“Perfect. I am going to ring the doorbell and come up with some excuse for being there and try distracting him—”

“You could try telling him that you got mugged and need an ambulance,” Todd suggests.

“What?” Dirk says. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Todd considers Dirk. The man has a black eye, a split lip, and a massive bruise on his jaw. Not to mention the way he reacted when Todd tapped his shoulder or his shallow breathing. “Yeah, if you could see yourself right now, you would not be calling me ridiculous.”

“Whatever.” Dirk seems to decide to push ahead. “Then you sneak around back, pick the lock on the back door and sneak Lydia out.” Dirk reaches into a pocket and pulls out a lock picking kit. “Here you go. Ready and break.” Dirk stands and starts to cross the street, limping.

“Oh, please god go with the ambulance story,” Todd mutters under his breath as he goes around the back of the house, thumbing through the tools Dirk had given him. He pauses outside the door until he hears Dirk talking to the man from before and then crouches down to pick the lock.

It’s only a matter of minutes to get the door open, and Todd can still hear Dirk going on to the man. He faintly hears Dirk say the word ‘mugged’ and sighs in relief before carefully swinging the door open.

The girl stares at him from the kitchen, her wrist cuffed to a radiator. Todd glances around the kitchen and realizes she must have had to really stretch to be seen from the door. He puts a finger to his lips and crawls across the floor to her side, pulling out the right tools to pop open the handcuff.

The lock clicks open just as Todd hears the man slam the front door. He hadn’t been listening, so he has no idea what Dirk said, but it clearly pissed him off, which doesn’t surprise Todd in the least.

He pulls Lydia to her feet and leads them both out the back. They’re at a full run, rounding the edge of the house when they hear the man shout in anger. They don’t stop until they’re six blocks down at the bus stop.

As soon as they’re stopped, Lydia asked, “Where’s the other guy?”

Todd has the horrible realization that Dirk hasn’t met them. In fact, Dirk is nowhere to be seen and was in no state to walk this far, let alone run. “Shit,” he says. He takes a step away, then hesitates. “Are you okay? Can I leave you here? I have to go get him. He was already hurt.”

“Yes,” Lydia tells him. “I’ll be fine. Go!”

Todd heads back the way they came at a run. He doesn’t pass the man from the house as he goes. He doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad sign.

He doesn’t find Dirk until he’s all the way back at the house. The Brit is sprawled out behind the bush. Todd rushes over and crouches beside him.

Dirk blinks at Todd’s face. “Okay. Don’t say you told me so, but I think you were right about me not being fine.” He pause thoughtfully. “What are you even doing back here? Where’s Lydia?”

“I left her at the bus stop and came back for you,” Todd answers. “Can you stand?”

Dirk frowns. “Yes. But I will have significantly more difficulty walking.”

Todd considers for a moment. “Okay, this is probably gonna hurt, so don’t scream.” He reaches out and hoists Dirk over his shoulder, pleasantly surprised by how little the other man weighs.

Dirk whines quietly as he’s jostled about, but manages to mostly stay quiet.

“Is your car closer than the bus stop?”

“Yeah,” Dirk responds breathlessly. His voice is a bit high with pain. “Just head towards the bus stop, but where you would turn right and go three blocks you turn left and the car’s right there.”

Todd follows Dirk’s directions as quickly as he can without hurting the man too much. When they get to the car, he props Dirk up on the hood. “Stay here. Unlock the car. I’m going to get Lydia.”

Todd makes quick work of the three blocks and then starts leading Lydia back to Dirk’s car. They have to duck quickly behind a pine try to avoid a car, just in case, but they make it back to the car more or less unscathed.

Dirk has maneuvered himself into the back seat of the car where he is laying all the way across, possibly because there is no room for his legs if he sat. He holds the keys aloft as Todd and Lydia climb in, Todd in the driver’s seat. “Take us away from here!” he cheers. “Preferably without drawing any attention to us.”

–

Farah steps into Dirk’s hospital room and glances around.

“Farah!” Dirk greets cheerily, a huge grin on his face that must hurt, given how his face actually _looks._

Farah winces just looking at him and crosses to his side. “Jesus Christ, what happened to you?”

“Ah, well.” Dirk’s face falls slightly. “That’s rather a long story. But I’m fine, is the important thing. They are holding me overnight because of a concussion or something. Absurd, really, but Todd stole my keys so even if I check myself out I can’t go anywhere.”

“Wow,” Farah says sarcastically. “What a jerk.”

“That’s what I said! Then he went to check on Lydia.”

Farah pats Dirk’s hand. “You should probably just do what the doctors say.”

Dirk glares at her. “You’re a traitor,” he accuses. “I hate hospitals.”

“I know, honey.” She takes his hand and squeezes it.

“Oh, hi,” Todd says, blinking as he walks in. He looks exhausted, but he isn’t hurt, which raises Farah’s hackles. He’s holding two paper cups. “Uh, you like earl grey latte’s right?” Todd asks Dirk. “That’s what I thought you ordered at, uh,” he tips his head towards Farah, “her coffee shop, right?”

“Oh, yes, excellent!” Dirk says, holding out a hand for the cup immediately. Todd carefully presses it into his hand. Dirk takes a sip and sighs contentedly. “Perfect. Not as good as yours, Farah, obviously. But very good.”

“Good,” Todd agrees. He turns to Farah. “Uh, this was for me, but it’s a red eye if you want it. I haven’t had any yet, so—”

“Why the hell are you fine?” Farah demands, getting to her feet and looming threateningly over Todd. “Did you do this? Or did you just let them beat him up?”

Todd flinches, taking a step away from her. “No! I found him like this.”

“You found him like this,” she repeats incredulously.

“Farah!” Dirk interrupts. “He’s telling the truth! I just had a run in with some former acquaintances this afternoon. This all happened before I went out to stake out the house I thought Lydia was being held in. And she _was_ being held there! He just helped me save her. And then he made me check in here, and now he won’t let me leave.” Dirk frowns, losing steam.

Farah doesn’t back down at all, but she relaxes minutely. “Keys?” she demands.

“Yeah—yes—sure!—j-just a second,” Todd fumbles in his pockets for the keys. Farah takes the coffee from his hand as he reaches for the pocket on that side. He holds up the keys as soon as he’s got them out. “Here you—”

Farah snatches them forcefully from his hand. “Thank you. Have a good night, Todd.”

Todd frowns, but nods. “Yeah. Goodnight Farah, Dirk.”

“Hey, Todd!” Dirk calls as he’s walking out the door. He’s glaring at Farah, doesn’t look away from her for a second.

“Uh, yeah?” Todd asks awkwardly from the door.

“Where’s Lydia?” Dirk sounds angry. Dirk never sounds angry. Farah doesn’t budge for a second, just glares right back at Dirk.

“Her father—her father was the dead guy at the hotel. She called his head of security, and she came to get her,” Todd says hesitantly.

“Okay, good. Have a good night, Todd.”

“Right,” Todd agrees quietly, then he’s gone.

“What was that all about?” Dirk hisses at Farah.

“A man I barely know brought you to the hospital, and you both have vague explanations on how you got hurt,” Farah tells him plainly. “I don’t like it.”

Dirk groans, closing his eyes and dropping his head back on his pillow. “He had nothing to do with this, Farah,” he insists. “It was—you remember the Rowdy 3 from that case a few months ago?”

“The gang?” she asks. Dirk nods. “Sure.”

“Well, I had a run-in with them while I was looking into some things this afternoon. This was them, not Todd,” Dirk explains. He opens his eyes again to look at Farah. “I’m not even hurt that bad. They relocated my shoulder, wrapped my ankle, and put a couple stitches in my lip, which was the worst of it. Took a bunch of x-rays and decided that everything else looked worse than it was.” Dirk shrugs one shoulder, probably the one that hadn’t been dislocated. “I swear that’s it. Specific enough for you?”

Farah finally crosses to sit next to him again. “Yes,” she agrees. “It’s just… well, you know. We’ve been here before.”

Dirk rolls his eyes. “We were children, Farah. This is totally different.”

“Not totally.” She takes a sip of the coffee.

“You know,” Dirk says after a few seconds of companionable silence, “you kinda stole that coffee from Todd.”

Farah chuckles. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

–

Todd manages to stay awake the whole bus ride back to his apartment, which feels like is quite an achievement. By the time he’s in the door, he barely has the energy to lock it behind him and take off his shoes before stumbling into bed.

He hasn’t been sleeping for nearly long enough when he’s woken by someone knocking on his door, apparently determined to keep knocking until he answers. “I’m coming!” he calls out as he gets to his feet. He glances at the clock as he heads for the door. It’s 9 am, which is way too early to be up, considering that he hadn’t gotten in until after 4 am last night.

He opens the door and then blinks a bunch of times to make sure he isn’t imagining things. “Hello, Dirk.”

“Todd!” Dirk responds excitedly, back to his cheery energetic self, even if he still looks like shit. He holds out a coffee cup to Todd.

Todd takes it automatically. He steps back from the door to let Dirk into his apartment.

Dirk limps right over to the couch and flops onto it. Probably with too much force, considering the way he winces. “I just wanted to check on you. Say thanks after you helped me with the job and took Lydia and I both to the hospital.” Dirk hesitates, biting hit lip. He sits back up, looking at Todd thoughtfully. “You were actually surprisingly helpful and competent.”

Todd glares halfheartedly at that. “Surprisingly competent,” he repeats dryly as he sits down on the arm of the couch.

Dirk waves him off. “Yeah, that’s what I said. Anyways, thank you.” Dirk shoots Todd his widest most charming grin. The effect is somewhat mitigated by the bruising and stitches. “You want to help me on my new case? I can pay you,” he adds. “It’s my fault you lost your job, anyways.”

Todd blinks at him. He sighs, and rubs a hand over his face. “What’s the new case?” he asks before taking a sip of his coffee.

The sip of coffee was clearly a tactical error, because Dirk shocks him by saying brightly, “The death of Patrick Spring.”

Todd snorts the coffee out his nose painfully. He coughs for a moment to get himself under control. “I can’t help with that. The police are investigating that case already, and I’m a ‘person of interest’. I thought you were a private detective? What are you doing investigating a murder case, anyway? Are you a police consultant, too?”

Dirk rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. “Of course not! Lydia hired me. The cops are getting nowhere with it, which should be obvious, considering their suspect pool.”

Todd groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dirk, I cannot help you with that. I’m in enough trouble as it is. This would only make me look more suspicious.”

“Oh, come on, Todd!” Dirk scoffs. He steps closer to Todd, getting way closer than Todd is comfortable with. “Please help me? You’re skills would be invaluable.”

Dirk has strategically placed himself so that Todd can’t step away without getting closer, and it makes a small voice of panic flare up in the pit of Todd’s stomach. “I said no, Dirk. I can’t help you with this case.”

“Todd!” Dirk whines. “Come on, we work well together. You know we work well together. You’ve got to help!”

“I’m not your Watson, asshole!” Todd snaps, hoping to at least get Dirk to step back. It works, and Todd takes that opportunity to stand and stalk over to the door, opening it and looking at Dirk expectantly.

Dirk rolls his eyes again. “Fine. You won’t help.” He walks to the door, pausing briefly to smile at Todd. He pulls a business card out of his pocket and slips it into the pocket of Todd’s jeans. “When you change your mind, give me a call.” He give Todd a thumbs up before stepping out into the hall.

Todd slams the door behind him. He takes the business card out of his pocket and goes to throw it away, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. He sighs and sticks it to his fridge with a magnet instead before heading back to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay guys, but it was the holidays (at least here in the US) and I had familial obligations. Shouldn't have a delay like that again, though.

Dirk whistles jauntily as he limps into Farah’s coffee shop. He’s decided that the best way to feel better is to pretend as though nothing happened and he doesn’t hurt everywhere. So far, it’s working at a middling level.

Farah jumps at his sudden appearance. “Oh, it’s just you, Dirk.” She frowns. “You’re early.”

Dirk waves one hand in a way that he’s hoping conveys a shrug. “I’ll be in a meeting—well investigating—well working—well lurking about, at any rate.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Lurking?” she asks. “That can’t be a good idea when you’re still so—and where is the sling the doctor gave you?” she demands. She crosses her arms, giving him a disapproving look.

“I don’t need it.” When she continues to glare, he sighs. “I don’t like it. And it’ll just make me more noticeable. And I don’t need it anyways, as long as I don’t go jarring it about, which I won’t because all I will be doing is lurking in a vaguely investigative way.”

“You need to wear the sling, Dirk,” she tells him, but she sounds defeated, as if she knows that she can’t win the fight but feels it’s worth saying anyways. She sighs, picking up a disposable cup. “What’ll it be? The usual?”

“Please,” he agrees, cheered slightly by the change in subject. He fishes in his pocket for his wallet and tries to hide a wince as he twists the wrong shoulder. He hands her a ten dollar bill. “Keep the change,” he says, because he always says it.

“I don’t need your charity, Dirk Gently,” she complains, but she takes the bill anyways. “Please sit down anywhere.” She gestures around the empty room. “It’ll be a few minutes.”

Dirk nods and takes his usual seat. He finds his knee bouncing nervously and glares at it until it stops. He shifts, crossing one leg on top of the other and resting his arms on the table without putting any weight on them.

He’s just thinking about checking his phone when Farah appears sporting two cups and an ice pack, which she carefully eases onto Dirk’s shoulder. “Hold that there,” she instructs, and he does. She sits across from him, placing one of the cups by his free hand. “What’s got you so anxious, Dirk?” she asks.

“Anxious? Me? Never. I am antsy at best,” he scoffs halfheartedly.

“Alright, antsy then,” Farah agrees easily.

Dirk sighs and inspects his cup as he fidgets with the lid with his thumb. “I don’t know. I just… I have a new case, and I’m supposed to be solving a murder, and I just… I have a bad feeling.”

“A murder?” Farah repeats skeptically. “Dirk, you’re not qualified—”

“Usually I wouldn’t have taken the case,” he agrees. “But I think it’s related to Lydia Springs kidnapping, as the murder victim was her father, so I… I don’t know, the police haven’t gotten anywhere with the case, and now she’s alone and I just… I have to help her. If I don’t, nobody will.”

Farah sighs and slumps back in her chair a little before taking a sip of her drink. Dirk wonders absently what it is. “Okay, so you’re going to help her. Do you have to do it now? You can’t wait until you’re a little more healed up?”

“The lead I have is only going to happen once. And all it is is watching some suspicious people meet and listening to what they say. Nothing serious.”

“But you have a bad feeling about it.”

“I have a bad feeling,” Dirk clarifies. “I don’t know that it’s about the meeting.”

Farah rolls her eyes. “What else could it be about?”

Dirk frowns and studies his cup again. “I don’t think it’s about the case. The last time I had this feeling… It was the last time _he_ showed up.” He wants to look up, to see her expression, but he can’t bring himself to meet her gaze. “And if it’s that, then it doesn’t matter what I do.”

“Like hell it doesn’t,” Farah says sharply. “You shouldn’t be out by yourself.”

Dirk takes a deep breath and meets her gaze defiantly. “I only know like three people. You can’t close the shop, Amanda is afraid of people, and Todd refused to help.”

“Todd refused to help?” Farah asks.

“Well, Todd refused to help with the case,” Dirk corrected. “He said something about already being a suspect or whatever.”

Farah closed her eyes. “Is this at all related to when you got him fired? Was Mr. Spring the dead body?”

“Yes,” Dirk admitted. “Which, in sight of hind, was maybe not the best way to sell him on the gig, but I couldn’t think of a better way.”

“I can think of several better ways,” Farah said, “but obviously none that you would possibly have thought of.” She sighs and reaches out to touch his hand. “Just be careful, okay? Call me if anything happens. If he shows up, or anything else.”

Dirk rolls his eyes. “Yes, mum.” He sobers slightly. “I’ll call you if anything happens.” He pulls out his phone, taking his hand from hers, and checks the time. “I have to go.” He stands and hands Farah back the ice pack. “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

He hears her murmur, “You never keep your promises,” as he goes, but he pretends not to.

–

“Todd?” Amanda asks as she answers the door.

“Hey, Amanda.” Todd glances around nervously.

“What are you doing here? You were just here like two days ago.”

“Yeah, well.” Todd frowns at the door which she is still holding partially closed. “I just—I need to talk to someone about… some things.”

Amanda sighs and steps back into the house, pulling the door farther open. “Come on in, then.”

Todd nods and follows her in the house, closing the door behind him. She walks to the kitchen and then starts riffling through her cabinets. Todd hops up to sit on the counter across from her.

“So what’s up?” She pulls down two mugs and two tea bags from the cabinet and puts on a tea kettle.

Todd doesn’t say anything until she turns to him. “I—I know this is going to sound crazy, but remember Dirk?”

Amanda smiles. “The cutie you brought with you last time?” she teases.

“Don’t.” Todd looks away. “He got me fired from my old job, and I know he didn’t mean to and I’m definitely over being mad at him about it, but then he showed up at my house this morning—”

“Salacious.” Amanda grins at him. “Don’t spare me any details.” Todd glares at her. “Fine, go on.”

“Well, he was there to offer me a job. To, I don’t know, private detect with him or something?”

Amanda’s eyes go wide, and she bites her lip to keep from saying anything. Todd still glares at her again.

“I—I don’t know, it sounds like fun and I definitely need a job but also he got me fired from my last job and also he’s investigating the murder of a guy that I’m a suspect or person of interest or whatever in the investigation already and also it seems kinda dishonest or something since I do think he’s cute but I am really sure that he’s dating his girl who is also pretty cute and runs the coffee shop I told you about.” Todd says it all in one breath, the words bleeding together until they almost stop being words altogether.

“Farah?” Amanda guesses. “Yeah, I can definitely see them as a couple.”

“Yeah,” Todd agrees. “Wait, how do you know her name? Where did you see her?”

Amanda frowns. “Well, I went to that coffee shop hoping to run into Dirk. Which I did, by the way. He’s actually pretty nice.”

“You went out to a coffee shop? By yourself? And you didn’t have a panic attack?”

“Well, I did have a panic attack,” Amanda admits. “But Dirk discretely helped me escape the restaurant and then drove me home. He’s very nice. Seemed scared to death that you’d think he was stalking me, but nice.”

Todd sighs, slumping a little. The kettle whistles and Amanda goes about making the tea, dumping hot water over a tea bag in each cup before handing one of them to Todd.

“So you told him you couldn’t take the job?”

“I told him that I couldn’t help on his current case, which is really all that he asked for my help with,” Todd clarifies. “I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

Amanda narrows her eyes at him, blowing on her tea. “What else?”

“What else?” Todd repeats. “What do you mean ‘what else’? That’s all there is.”

Amanda smiles. “It so is not! What else, Todd?”

Todd bites his lip, then look studiously down at his tea. “He gave me his number.” Amanda squeals delighted me. “For if I changed my mind! Only for if I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Amanda winks at him.

“I’m serious, Amanda,” Todd snaps. “That’s all it was for.”

“You could still ask him out,” Amanda suggests. “If he says no, you never see him again. It doesn’t have to be weird like it usually is.”

“Like it usually is?” Todd’s eyebrows migrate towards his hairline.

“For you,” Amanda says firmly. “For you it’s usually weird. It’s not ever really your fault—except that one time—but it always ends up being weird.”

Todd sighs. “Fair enough.” He takes a sip of his tea.

They sit in awkward silence for a moment. Finally, Amanda decides to change the subject. “My new medication is working way better than what I was on before,” she tells him. “Way fewer side effects, and even when I do start to panic, I find it easier to calm down.”

“Good,” Todd says, relaxing. “That’s really good. I’m so glad.”

“Yeah, next thing you know, I’ll be able to go to the grocery store by myself.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” Todd tells her seriously. “I mean, I’m glad you’re doing better, but going to the coffee shop was just stupid.”

“I know. I’ll take it baby steps at a time. You don’t have to worry about me.”

–

Dirk had climbed up the fire escape to watch the meeting more than an hour ago, and for some reason, the guys were still arguing. Dirk is determined to stay and listen to the conversation, just in case they mention any useful information, but honestly he didn’t think that was likely. The two men just keep arguing like they could go on for hours, and Dirk doesn’t exactly want to sit around and listen to it. Besides, his feeling of dread has been growing the whole time.

“Look,” one of the men snaps at his compatriot, “somebody killed Patrick Spring. And if we can agree it wasn’t one of you and it wasn’t one of me, then who the hell was it?”

“Maybe that detective guy that’s been loitering around?” the other suggests.

“The detective? Nah, man, that guy was working for Spring.”

“Maybe Spring screwed him over.”

“Spring never screwed anyone over. He always paid you for the work you did, and he always paid you on time, no matter what. He was good like that.”

“You’re probably right. But he knows something, I’m sure of it. Maybe we find him and we… _ask_ him what he knows, if you know what I mean.”

That certainly doesn’t sound good. Dirk definitely needs to be anywhere but here, and he needs to be there now. He drags himself to his feet as quietly as he can and then starts tip-toeing up the fire escape towards the roof as best he can on his ankle.

“And once he tells us what he knows, we deal with whoever needs dealt with. And then we deal with him, you know what I’m sayin’?”

“Why deal with him? We could just wear masks and then let him go.”

“No, man, you heard about how he screwed over the Rowdy 3. Things keep going the way they’re going, one of us is definitely next.”

Dirk is nearing the top of the fire escape, and he’s starting to think he’ss actually going to make it when his phone rings.

“What the hell?”

“Hey, that’s the detective guy, ain’t it?”

“Lets just get him now!”

“Shit!” Dirk hisses to himself, fumbling for his phone and moving as quickly as he can up the last few steps. His ankle is starting to kill, and he’s pretty sure that he won’t make it out before the guys catch up with him. They are already most of the way up the ladder. “Hello?” he asks, answering the phone, because what the hell.

“Uh, hi, Dirk? This is Todd. Todd Brotzman.”

Dirk looks up at the sky in frustration as he limps quickly across the roof. “Now is not exactly a good time, Todd,” he says as calmly as he can manage. “Can I call you back?”

“Oh, uh, sorry. I just… I’d like to help you with your case. Or. You know. A case.”

“You do?” Dirk says, cheering momentarily before redoubling his escape efforts and starting down a different fire escape. “That’s great. You’re first job is to go to the coffee shop and tell Farah that things have gone a little sideways.”

“Are you okay?” Todd sounds worried.

“Oh, yeah, fine,” Dirk tells him, despite the fact that the guys are definitely gaining on him and he just twisted his ankle again. “You know, just let her know that I need maybe a little help. Or maybe to call the police. Or maybe the morgues or something.”

“Dirk?” Now Todd sounds really alarmed.

Dirk makes it to the bottom of the fire escape and starts down the alley, hoping to make it to a crowded shop before the thugs catch up with him. Instead, he comes face to face with an older man and stops dead.

The thugs stumble to a stop behind him, then turn and run.

“On second thought, tell her that I’ve just run into my father,” Dirk says.

He hangs up his phone, just as Todd is saying, “Dirk, what the he—”

–

Todd basically sprinted all the way to Farah’s coffee shop, so by the time he gets in, he has to force himself not to gasp for breath.

“Todd?” she asks as he bursts into the shop. “What are you doing here?”

“Look,” Todd says. “I know you don’t like me much. Probably because I was ogling your boyfriend, but that’s besides the point. He offered me a job, and I said no, but then I was like, what the hell, take the job—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Farah demands. “My boyfriend? You mean Dirk? He’s not my boy—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Todd interrupts her. “I mean, good to know, but—nevermind. I called him to tell him I’d changed my mind because he’d given me a business card, and he sounded like he was running and then he told me to tell you that things went sideways and to call the police or the morgues or I dunno, something—”

“He _what_?”

“And then he just cut himself off and sounded really alarmed or scared or maybe apathetic, I can’t really say, and he said to tell you instead that he’d run into his father, which didn’t make a lot of sense, but it sounded pretty serious so I ran all the way here, and—”

“Give me your phone,” Farah demands immediately.

“My phone? How is that going to—”

“Give it to me _now_.”

Todd swallows and complies, fishing his phone out of his pocket and handing it to her.

She flips through something on it for a moment before handing it back and then looking through her own phone. “Well, he turned his phone off after you called him. Or maybe he broke it. Either way, we can’t track him that way. We have to go to wear he last was.” She takes off her apron, throws it on the counter and grabs her leather jacket before heading for the door. She stops at the door and turns expectantly towards Todd. “Come on, we have to go.”

“Right,” Todd agrees before rushing after her. “How do you know that, anyway?”

Farah shrugs. “I’ve picked some things up. I was a security guard for a while.”

“Right.”

–

Dirk doesn’t really remember what he said to his foster father, but it hadn’t been quite the right thing. He’d tried to turn and leave, but the man had reached out to stop him and jerked his arm, dislocating his shoulder again and causing Dirk to drop his phone which had shattered on the concrete.

Dirk had managed, somehow, to get him to leave, but not before he slapped him in the face, reopening the stitches in his lip, and said something ominous about trying another angle.

Of course, once all the adrenaline was out of his system he could barely stand, let alone walk, and his phone was shattered. So he’d dropped down to sit against the building. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there, but he _is_ pretty sure that he’s managed to stop crying. He’s also pretty sure those thugs are going to come back and try to find out where he went any minute now, and he won’t be able to run away again.

“DIRK!” he hears a voice shout from a little ways off. He recognizes it as Todd’s.

“Dirk are you still here!” Farah chimes in.

Dirk immediately feels all the terror leave him, and the relief makes his eyes well up with tears again. “I’m over here!” he shouts back, trying and failing to keep his voice from wavering.

Two heavy sets of footsteps make their way quickly down the alley way towards him. They both stop short as they reach him.

“Jesus, Dirk, I told you that you shouldn’t be out alone,” Farah snaps. She’s just barely holding back tears as she crouches down next to him to inspect him.

“What the hell?” Todd says. Dirk’s not certain what Todd’s referring to, but when he glances at the other man, he thinks maybe Todd isn’t sure what he means either.

“Can you walk?” Farah asks him, ignoring Todd entirely.

“No, I—I twisted my ankle again and I—”

“Not twisted, broken,” Todd butts in, crouched down next to him. “It shouldn’t look like this.” He gestures to the ankle for Farah, raising his eyebrows at her pointedly.

“Fuck,” she says. “And your shoulder is—?”

“Dislocated again. Yes. Unfortunately. I think it’s worse this time,” Dirk tells her quietly, a whine creeping into his voice despite his best efforts.

“Okay,” Todd says decisively while Farah hesitates. “I’ll carry him to the car, but then he needs to go back to the hospital.”

“Maybe you should wait in the car,” Dirk suggests to Todd as they pull up to the hospital. “They already thought you beat me last time, this will just make it worse.”

“Yeah, sure,” Todd agrees, but he sounds a little panic-y about it. “I’ll, uh… If Farah wants to park, then I can just catch a bus home or something.”

“Sounds good,” Farah decides. She pulls into a parking space and then turns to Dirk. “I’m going to go get you a wheelchair.” Looks back at Todd. “I’ll take care of him and call you if we need you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Todd says. He looks a little light headed, but he climbs out of the car easily enough. “Just… call me if there’s any news.”

“We’ll be fine,” Dirk tells him with false cheer. “Nothing to worry about, we’re home free now.”

Todd nods mutely and heads for the bus stop.


End file.
